


Before I Go

by rauqthetommo



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 18 year old Richie, Anal Sex, He’s 17, M/M, Sad Ending, This is for you anon, Underage Eddie, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21789484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rauqthetommo/pseuds/rauqthetommo
Summary: Eddie breaks the news to Richie that he’s leaving Derry for college.An excerpt from this work:“You can’t leave, Eds, you just can’t.” Richie follows Eddie out of his house and onto the front lawn.“I have to,” Eddie unlocks his car. “I’m sorry Richie, but it’s already done.”“No, it isn’t.” Richie shakes his head, his hair brushing his shoulders. “Because you’re still here right now. Stay with me, Eddie don’t leave me here alone, please.”“Rich—““What’s in New York, anyway? What’s so special about NYU?” Richie takes a step towards Eddie. This can’t be happening. He can’t really be leaving. Eddie had applied to that fucking school in Bangor for a reason. Richie had assumed that with Eddie going to school there, he’d finally be able to work up the courage to tell him how he’d felt all this time.“I need to get away from Derry,” Eddie shrugs. He won’t look at Richie. “Away from everything.” Eddie nervously twists his keys in his hands.“Away from me,” Richie says.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	Before I Go

“You can’t leave, Eds, you just can’t.” Richie follows Eddie out of his house and onto the front lawn. 

“I have to,” Eddie unlocks his car. “I’m sorry Richie, but it’s already done.”

“No, it isn’t.” Richie shakes his head, his hair brushing his shoulders. “Because you’re still here right now. Stay with me, Eddie don’t leave me here alone, please.”

“Rich—“

“What’s in New York, anyway? What’s so special about NYU?” Richie takes a step towards Eddie. This can’t be happening. He can’t really be leaving. Eddie had applied to that fucking school in Bangor for a reason. Richie had assumed that with Eddie going to school there, he’d finally be able to work up the courage to tell him how he’d felt all this time. 

“I need to get away from Derry,” Eddie shrugs. He won’t look at Richie. “Away from everything.” Eddie nervously twists his keys in his hands. 

“Away from me,” Richie says. 

Eddie closes his car door and steps forward. “No, Richie, of course not.” He holds his arm out but Richie steps back, out of his reach. 

“Just leave then,” Richie shakes his head, feeling his eyes brim with tears. 

“Rich—“

“Hurry up and go, so I don’t ever have to see you again.” The look on Eddie’s face breaks Richie’s heart, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. “Get out of here, Eddie, fuck. Go to your stupid little school with all of the other losers. It’s not like you’ll make it long, anyway. Your mommy will pull you out of school soon enough anyway. ‘Eddie Bear, you’re too sick! You have to come home!’” Richie says, imitating Eddie’s mother. “But it’s fine.” Richie shrugs. “It must have been some sort of fluke to let you in there anyway. Why would a school like that ever want someone like you?” 

Eddie does something that surprises Richie. He punches him. Right in the face, clean across the jaw, flooring him. Richie had never seen Eddie so angry, certainly not ever at something that he’d done before. “You’re a fucking asshole, Trashmouth.” Eddie snaps. He’s crying, standing over Richie. 

“ _I’m_ the asshole?” Richie demands, glaring up at Eddie. “You just fucking punched me in the face, how am I the asshole?”

“You’re an asshole because—“

“Boys?” Richie’s mother, Maggie, steps out onto the front porch, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Is everything alright?” She takes in the scene, Eddie’s tear streaked face, fists balled up in rage, and her own son lying on the grass, glasses crooked on his nose. 

“We’re fine, Mom.” Richie says quietly, watching as Eddie wipes the tears from his face. 

Maggie hesitates for a second, but ultimately decides to leave it, turning and walking back into the house. 

“I’m leaving,” Eddie says as Richie turns back to him. 

He stomps off the lawn, climbing into his car and starting it up, throwing it in reverse and backing quickly down the driveway. “Eddie,” Richie calls out to him. But it’s too late. He’s already gone, leaving Richie alone, sprawled out on his front lawn. 

He takes a moment to breathe, heart sinking into his stomach as he replays what happened in his head. How could he have said those things to Eddie? “I am an asshole,” He mumbles, pushing himself up and wiping off the seat of his jeans. 

Inside, Maggie is still washing dishes. She frowns at him when he walks in. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” She dries her hands off on her apron and holds her arms out to her son. 

“Eddie is leaving,” Richie says, wrapping his arms around her and laying his head on her shoulder. “He’s going to New York.” 

“Oh, honey.” Maggie strokes his hair gently, holding him while he cries. 

*** 

Richie knew he was in the wrong. He never should have said those things to Eddie, no matter how angry he was. He knew he needed to apologize, so after dinner that night, he heads over to Eddie’s to say he’s sorry. 

Sonia, Eddie’s mother, doesn’t like it when guests come over after 7, so Richie walks around the back of Eddie house, hands stuffed in his pockets. He hates how cliché this all is. Their big blowout fight, Richie sneaking over to apologize, especially since the only way to alert Eddie to his presence without also narcing on himself to Mrs. Kaspbrak, is to throw stones at Eddie’s second floor window until he hears him. 

Richie gathers a small collection of pebbles from Sonia’s side garden and begins hucking them at Eddie’s window. The first one bounces off the gutter, the second one pinging softly off of the roof. “Fuck,” Richie grumbles quietly, taking aim and tossing another pebble. It knocks directly into the lower left panel off Eddie’s window, flying off and landing in his side yard. 

When Eddie appears at his window, he’s frowning. He wipes his eyes when he sees Richie standing there, glancing over his shoulder back into his bedroom before waving Richie up. 

Richie carefully climbs on top of Eddie’s trash can and pulls himself up onto the garage roof, slowly crossing the back porch cover and to Eddie’s window. 

Eddie lifts the window for Richie, propping it open with a ruler to allow him to climb inside. “Hey, Eds.” Richie runs his hand through his hair. 

“Hey, Rich.” Eddie says quietly, sitting down on the edge of his bed. 

Richie pulls the ruler out of the window and gently lowers it back down. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” Richie sits next to him on the bed, resting his hand on Eddie’s bare knee. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier. And I didn’t mean those things I said, honest.” Eddie continues to frown, pulling his pillow onto his lap and holding it to his chest. “I just don’t want you to go.”

“Neither does my mom,” Eddie pulls his knees up onto the bed, wrapping his arms around them. “She keeps trying to get me to defer for a year. Until I’m eighteen.” Richie nods, reaching over to unroll Eddie’s shorts leg, which had bunched up. “But that doesn’t even make any sense. I’ll be eighteen this September.”

“When are you leaving?” Richie asks after a minute. 

“August 29th.”

“No,” Richie shakes his head. “You can’t leave before your birthday, Eds. You can’t.”

“Richie—“

“Please, Eddie, I have so much planned for your party.” Richie takes Eddie’s hands in his. 

“Richie, I’m sorry.”

“Eddie, maybe you can wait.” Eddie just shakes his head. “You can go in a couple weeks late—“

“No, Richie.”

“—or you can wait until the next semester.”

“Richie.”

“Please, Eds. Just stay until your birthday.”

“Richie, the semester starts September 1st. I have to be there.”

Richie gets up, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair. He can hear Eddie’s mom watching tv downstairs. She’ll most likely fall asleep down there, leaned back in her recliner, and not even bother to check on Eddie until the morning. “Do you have any weed?” He asks, pacing around Eddie’s bedroom. 

Eddie nods his head, ducking down to retrieve his tin Superman lunch box from under his bed. “Open the window,” He nods toward Richie. 

Richie complies, propping the window open with the old wooden ruler. The cool night air floods in as Eddie lights a spliff, blowing some ash off of the end and handing it to Richie. “Thanks,” Their fingertips brush as Richie takes the joint, sticking it between his lips and taking a long drag, the thick smoke filling his lungs. 

“Share the love, man.” Eddie mumbles, taking the spliff back. He’s standing so close to Richie, Richie could practically count his eyelashes. 

“What made you decide to go, Eds?” Richie asks, flicking some ash out of the window. 

“Sonia has been driving me up a fucking wall lately.” Eddie murmurs. 

Richie smiles at that. It always makes him laugh when Eddie calls his mother by her first name. 

“I’m sorry I hit you,” Eddie reaches out and lightly taps over the new formed bruise on Richie’s jawline. 

“I deserved it,” Richie pauses, joint in hand. “Why New York?”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t really know, I guess.” He takes the joint back from Richie. “You could come with me,” He offers. 

“Yeah, right.” Richie laughs, shaking his head. 

“I’m serious, Rich. Come with me to New York. Go to school with me.”

“I think I’m all done with school, Eds.” Richie blows smoke out the open window. “College doesn’t really seem like the place for me.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie is frowning now. “You’re smart as hell, Richie. And people would love you. Students, teachers.” He shrugs again. “Everyone would love you.”

Richie stubs out the joint and tosses it over the back porch cover and onto the lawn. “If I leave then there’d be no one left for old Mikey.”

Eddie nods. All of their friends were gone. Bev, Ben, Stan. Even old Stuttering Bill had moved away. Only Richie, Eddie and Mike remained in Derry together. Their other friends went on with their lives, now too busy to call. 

“Other people’s happiness is not your responsibility, Rich.” Eddie says softly. 

“Eds—“

“Come lie down with me,” Eddie interrupts, lifting up the window so the ruler falls over, slowly lowering it down. 

“Okay,” Richie replies, climbing over Eddie’s baseboard and lying down on his back on the bed. 

Usually when they lie down together, they lie on their backs, shoulder to shoulder, and smoke or listen to music or just talk. But this time, Eddie slides onto the bed and drapes himself over Richie, head on his chest, arm over his stomach, and his leg hitched up over Richie’s pelvis. Eddie gently traces his finger over Richie’s shoulder. “I’m nervous, Richie.” 

“About what?” Richie asks quietly. 

Eddie’s mom sneezes downstairs.

“Everything,” Eddie burrows his face in Richie’s shoulder, hiking his leg up farther, inadvertently brushing it over Richie’s cock. “What if you were right? What if I don’t make it at college? What if my mom pulls me out or them accepting me really was just a fluke or—“ Eddie shakes his head, dissolving into tears. 

“Hey, Eds.” Richie tries to soothe him, rubbing his back gently. “Don’t do that, Eddie, please.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie chokes out, face buried in the crook of Richie’s neck. “I can’t help it.” He’s crying so hard he can barely breathe, letting out strained little gasps between his heavy sobs. 

“Eddie, you’re the smartest person I know. Smarter than Big Billy. Smarter than Beverly. Smarter than me. You belong at that school, of course you do.”

Eddie takes a shuddery breath, inhaling deeply against Richie’s shoulder. He pulls back to look at Richie, tears in his big brown eyes. “I really am sorry I hit you, Richie.” He slides his hand down from Richie’s shoulder to rest on his hip. 

“It’s alright, Eds.” Richie smiles at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that mad before.” Richie laughs. “Well, except for maybe the last time we played Monopoly.”

Eddie scowls immediately. “Don’t bring that up.” He huffs. “You’re such a fucking cheater.”

“Me?” Richie feigns surprise. 

“Yes, you!” Eddie is getting worked up, Richie can hear it. “I knew you were stealing from the bank because you wouldn’t let me check your pockets!” 

“Eds, there were five other people playing with us, don’t you think if I was cheating one of them would have noticed?” 

Eddie pulls away and shoves Richie’s shoulder. “I know you were cheating, Trashmouth, so don’t even try to deny it.”

“I would never cheat on you, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie shakes his head and grabs Eddie, tickling up over his stomach and his sides. 

“Richie!” Eddie laughs, kicking his legs and ruffling up his blankets. “Richie, quit it! You’re gonna make my mom come up here!”

“Can’t hear your, Eds.” Richie insists, tickling over Eddie’s thighs and back up his body. 

“Richie, stop, I can’t breathe!” Eddie says, but he’s still laughing, rolling around on his bed with Richie on top of him. “Richie, hang on.” Eddie manages to get out, reaching over to his nightstand to grab his inhaler. “Fuck,” He coughs, blasting the inhaler down his throat. 

“Sorry, Eds.” Richie says, watching as Eddie takes another pull off of his inhaler before setting it back on the nightstand. “Didn’t mean to get you all riled up.”

“You always get me all riled up, Richie.” Eddie says, bringing his hand up to touch the edge of Richie’s glasses. 

They lay together for a moment, their legs tangled up and half off the bed, Richie’s left arm under Eddie’s body and his right arm propping himself up on the bed. Eddie shorts are so short, too short, and Richie can see the pale skin of Eddie’s upper thigh, he can see the outline of Eddie’s briefs. Eddie’s shirt had hiked up, too, when Richie had been tickling him, the smallest amount of hair on his stomach showing, dark brown against his white skin, leading down into Eddie’s shorts. Eddie’s left hand is resting on Richie’s hip, his right one raised up, fingers near Richie’s ear, almost touching his hair. Richie can hear Eddie’s heart beating. Fast, just like his own. Before he can stop himself, Richie leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. 

_Friends kiss all the time,_ he tells himself. But he knew that the kiss was more. He held it longer than a friend kiss, keeping his lips on Eddie’s face for what felt like an eternity. Eddie must have felt it too, because he brought his hand up to cup Richie’s face, closing his eyes and leaning towards him. 

When he pulls away, Eddie’s hand remains on his cheek. “You’re hard, Eddie.” Richie says softly. Not a judgement or a criticism. It was a fact. Eddie was hard, and Richie could feel him pressing into his hip. 

“You are too,” Eddie replies. 

Richie nods. He was hard, harder than he’d ever been. He’d never been this turned on, the only time he ever came close was last Christmas. He’d spent the day with Eddie, having already celebrated Hanukkah at home, and the two of them had had an amazing day. Goofing around in the snow, drinking hot chocolate together, watching old Christmas movies. Eddie had gotten choked up when Richie had given him his Christmas present, a framed picture of them together as children, standing on the playground at Derry Elementary. Eddie had hugged Richie that day. A long hug, a tight hug, a hug where Eddie had run his hands up and down Richie’s back and kissed his cheek afterwards. Richie had excused himself to the bathroom quickly, and stroked himself until he came in his own hands, all the while glancing at the picture of Eddie hung on the wall next to the sink. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Richie asks, eyes raking over Eddie’s face. He’s so beautiful. 

Eddie nods, his breathing slightly labored, like he needs another shot of his inhaler. Richie leans down to kiss him again, pressing his lips to Eddie’s cheekbone. Eddie sighs through his nose, closing his eyes and wrapping his right hand up in Richie’s hair. Richie kisses Eddie’s forehead, his eyelids, his nose, his chin. He kisses everywhere he can, avoiding his lips to give Eddie plenty of time to stop him if he wants. But he doesn’t. He keeps his left hand on Richie’s cheek and his right hand in Richie’s hair, eyes still closed. 

Finally, Richie leans forward and catches Eddie’s lips in a kiss. The kiss is soft, their lips resting on one another’s gently. Eddie tastes like toothpaste. 

Eddie is still hard against his hip, his cock twitching in his pants as their lips move together. Richie pulls away for a second, moving down to press kisses onto Eddie’s earlobe and his jawline. He presses a kiss to Eddie throat and Eddie moans, pushing Richie off of him. “Fuck, Richie.” He mumbles, dropping his head back against the mattress. 

“What? What happened?” Richie frowns, studying Eddie’s face. 

His Adam’s Apple bobs as he talks. “I just fucking came in my pants, Richie.” He groans. 

“Seriously?” Richie can’t help but laugh. 

“Don’t laugh at me, you asshole.” Eddie snaps, shoving Richie fully off of him. 

“No, I’m not, I’m sorry.” Richie says, still laughing. 

“Fuck, that is so embarrassing.” Eddie brings his hand up to rest on his forehead. “I’m sorry, Rich, I didn’t mean to.” He props himself up on his elbows. “I was just excited. I’ve never been with anyone before.”

“Really?” Richie asks, watching Eddie’s hand as he plays with a loose thread on his comforter. 

Eddie nods. “Have you?”

Richie shifts, pulling his knees up to his chest. “I made out with Stan Uris once.”

Eddie frowns. “No you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Eddie shoves Richie’s shoulder. 

“Honest, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie crosses his finger over his heart. “At Big Bill’s 15th birthday party. When everyone was asleep we went downstairs to get some water and,” He shrugs. “I don’t know. It just kind of happened.” He smiles up at Eddie. “I didn’t cum in my pants, though.”

“Fuck you, Trashmouth.” Eddie grumbles, falling back against his pillow, throwing his arm up across his eyes. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it, Eds.” Richie lays down next to him, resting his hand on Eddie’s stomach. “It’s ok. I’m not mad or anything.”

“Did you even get off?” Eddie asks, reaching down to drag his fingers over Richie’s cock, still hard in his jeans. 

“No, but that’s ok. You can make me cum in my pants some other time.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Eddie groans, shoving Richie’s shoulder once again. “I’m so embarrassed about that, Richie.”

“I’ll never bring it up again, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie assures him, tapping the end of Eddie’s nose with his finger. “Unless, of course, I can use it as the punchline of a joke, that is.”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Eddie says, climbing on top of him, holding his wrists to the mattress with his hands and leaning down, silencing him with a kiss. 

Richie moans softly into Eddie’s lips, allowing Eddie to lick into his mouth, tongues sliding over one another’s. Eddie keeps Richie’s wrists pinned down while he grinds down against Richie’s cock. Richie struggles against Eddie’s grip, wanting desperately to be able to touch him. His hair, his face, his body, anything, but Eddie is a lot stronger than he looks. “Fuck, Eds.” Richie moans out loudly as Eddie shifts his attention to Richie’s neck, sucking and licking over the soft skin there. “God, Eddie.”

When Eddie finally releases Richie’s wrists, it’s so that he can pull Richie’s shirt up over his head. He tosses it aside, mouth immediately back on him, running over his collarbones and his chest. He slides down further, licking over one of Richie’s nipples, biting down on the sensitive skin. Richie laces his fingers in Eddie’s hair, tugging as Eddie continues down his body, licking, kissing, biting over every inch of skin. 

Eddie slides his hands into the waistband of Richie’s jeans, gently tugging them down over his hips, not bothering with the button or the zipper. He slips them completely off of Richie’s legs, tossing them onto the floor next to the bed. “Rich?” He says softly, hands resting on the legs of Richie’s boxers. 

Richie sits halfway up, meeting Eddie’s eyes. “What’s wrong, Eds?” He smiles at him. “Did you cum again?”

Eddie swats his knee. “No, you ass. I just—“ He stumbles, purses his lips. 

“What’s up, Eddie? Are you ok?” Richie leans forward and places his hand on Eddie’s forearm, rubbing his thumb over Eddie’s wrist. 

Eddie nods. “Will you—? Uhm.” He stutters again, shaking his head. “Will you be my first? Will you take my virginity? Please?”

Richie feels like he could cry. It was such a funny question to him, he almost laughed. But Eddie asked it so innocently, he was clearly nervous. “Yeah, Eds.” Richie reaches up and brushes his fingers over Eddie’s cheek. “Of course, if that’s what you want.” Eddie nods and swallows hard. He really is so beautiful, Richie thinks. Kneeling between Richie’s legs, his hair sticking up wildly from their tickle/make-out session, hands resting on Richie’s now bare knees. “I’d do anything for you, Eds.” Richie adds, just because it’s true. 

Eddie smiled at that, his nervousness seemingly falling away. He climbs back up, leaning over Richie on his hands and knees, pulling him into another kiss. He allows Richie to flip them over, lying flat on his back on top of his comforter. Eddie leans up to pull his shirt off, throwing it over Richie’s shoulder. They hear it make contact with Eddie’s dresser, knocking something over, but neither of them move. Richie runs his hands over Eddie’s bare skin, admiring the blush that spread all over Eddie’s chest, from his neck down to his stomach. “I love you, Richie.” Eddie says quietly. 

“I love you too, Eddie.” Richie whispers, pulling Eddie’s shorts and underwear down in one motion. 

Eddie’s already hard again, cock curving up against his stomach, dripping precum onto his happy trail. Richie tosses Eddie’s cum smeared pants and briefs aside, leaning forward to wrap his mouth around Eddie. 

Eddie moans lowly, once again wrapping his hands up in Richie’s hair. Richie licks over the head of Eddie’s dick, mouthing up and down his length before gingerly sliding all the way down him, gagging when Eddie hits the back of his throat. “Fuck,” Richie coughs, pulling off. He wipes his mouth with the back of my hand. “Sorry, Eddie Spaghetti, I’m sure that was most unattractive.” 

Eddie smiles at him and shakes his head. “Everything you do is attractive, Richie. I mean, fuck, I creamed my pants over a kiss earlier.” 

They laugh together, a real hearty laugh, before falling back into silence. After a few seconds, Richie shakes his head. “Fuck, Eddie, I just love you so much. I have for so long, Eds, you gotta believe me.”

Eddie nods, taking Richie’s wrists and pulling him down on top of him. “I do, Richie.” Eddie mumbles into his mouth. 

As they kiss, grinding their cocks together, Eddie reaches over to his nightstand and begins rooting around in his drawer. He produces a small bottle of lube and presses it into Richie’s hand. 

“Do you have any condoms?” Richie asks. 

Eddie frowns and shakes his head. “Sonia would have a fit if she found condoms in here. Do you?”

Richie sighs through his nose, thinking of the box of condoms in the bottom of his closet, and to the extra condoms he kept in his backpack, which was sitting on the floor in his parents foyer. “Not on me, no.” Eddie pauses, blinking a few times and running his hand up and down Richie’s side. “I can run back home and—“

“It’s ok,” Eddie interrupts him. 

“Are you sure, Eds?” 

Eddie nods. “I trust you,” Richie plants another kiss on Eddie’s lips, sliding down to sit between Eddie’s legs. 

He pops open the lube and pours some on his fingers. “This is your first time?” Richie asks again, gently stroking over Eddie’s hip as he warms the lube up in his other hand. 

“Yeah, but I—“ Eddie stops, almost like he’s embarrassed to keep talking, so Richie keeps looking at him, waiting for him to finish. “I’ve done it to myself before.” He admits. 

Richie whimpers softly at that, his eyelids fluttering. His dick throbs between his legs at the thought of Eddie lying in bed, moaning softly as he stretches himself open with his own fingers, stroking himself with his other hand. “Fuck, Eddie.” Richie mumbles, using his lube-free hand to push Eddie’s legs apart. 

“I was thinking about you while I did it,” Eddie adds, almost as an afterthought. 

That alone was almost enough to make Richie cum in his boxers. “Goddamn, Eds.” He feels hot all over, his mind racing with thoughts of Eddie working himself open, moaning Richie’s name into his pillow, trying to keep quiet so his mom didn’t hear and come up to check on him. “Fuck,” He groans, pulling himself together. “Let me know if I hurt you,” He manages, pressing his lubed-up finger to Eddie’s entrance, gently teasing him. 

Eddie moans breathily as Richie works him open, pushing a second finger inside of him. He scissors his fingers apart, watching Eddie’s face the whole time, searching for any signs that he’s in pain or uncomfortable. “Fuck, Richie.” Eddie gasps out as Richie brushes his prostate. “Do that again.”

Richie does, holding Eddie’s left leg back with his free hand, twisting his fingers around inside of Eddie, teasing him. “You’re ok?”

“I’m fine, Richie, fuck, that feels so good.” Eddie reaches down and begins stroking himself, fingers working quickly over his own cock. 

Richie begins stroking himself, too, inside of his boxers, pressing a third finger into Eddie, watching as Eddie arches his back off the bed, digging his shoulders into the mattress. He reaches down and slaps at Richie’s wrist. “Fuck, Richie, I’m ready, please.”

“Eddie, I don’t want to hurt you.” Richie shakes his head. 

“You won’t, Richie, please. Please, I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

“Eddie—“

“Fuck me, Richie, please fuck me.” Eddie begs, sitting up and trying to pull down Richie’s boxers. 

“Let me know if I hurt you, Eddie.” Richie says softly, pulling his hand out of Eddie, sliding out of his underwear and tossing them aside. 

Eddie settles back onto the bed, flat on his back, panting and looking up at Richie with his big brown eyes. “Please,” He repeats. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Richie murmurs, pressing the head of his dick against Eddie’s entrance, slowly sliding in. “God, Eds, you’re so tight.” Richie tips his head back, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

Eddie whimpers softly under him, grabbing Richie’s wrist with his hand. “Fuck, Rich.” He moans. 

Richie begins building up a steady pace, fucking into Eddie hard. Eddie lets out little yelps and moans each time Richie hits his prostate, wrapping his legs around Richie’s middle. Eddie reaches up and grabs Richie’s shoulders, pulling him down on top of him, kissing him sloppily. Richie knows he won’t last, not with Eddie moaning and twisting under him. “Eds, I’m gonna cum.” Richie tells him. 

Eddie nods. “Me too,” He says, each word punctuated by a sharp gasp. “I love you,” He says again, locking eyes with Richie. 

“Fuck, I love you, too.” Richie moans out, cumming deep inside of Eddie. 

Eddie cums too, cock laying untouched between the two of them. 

Richie reaches up and grabs ahold of Eddie’s headboard, trying to steady his heartbeat and his breathing. Eddie slides his hand up Richie’s body, plucking his glasses off of his face and folding them up in his hands. He places Richie’s glasses on his nightstand and leans up, kissing both of Richie’s eyelids. “You’re sweaty,” He comments quietly. 

Richie huffs out a laugh at that. “That’s the most exercise I’ve done all year, Eds. Maybe in my entire life.” He ducks his head down, attacking Eddie’s cheek with a barrage of kisses. 

“Richie, cut it out.” Eddie laughs, resting his hands on Richie’s shoulders. “I love you,” He says, wrapping his arms around Richie’s upper body, pulling him down so their chests are touching. 

“I love you too, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie replies, kissing Eddie’s cheek one final time before pulling himself, slowly, out of Eddie. 

Eddie moans softly when Richie is all the way out, reaching over to his nightstand to grab his inhaler. He takes a puff of it as Richie lies back down. “I wish you could stay,” He says, rubbing his cheek against Richie’s shoulder. 

“Me too,” Richie sighs, knowing he can’t spend the night. If Sonia catches him here she’ll flip out. She hates when Eddie has people over after dark, and she’s never been Richie’s biggest fan in the first place. 

“Come with me to school, Richie.” Eddie says again. “Please.”

Richie takes Eddie’s chin in his hand, smiling sadly at him. “I can’t, Eds. New York isn’t for me. It’s for you.” He rakes his hand through Eddie’s hair. “I’m not cut out for the big apple. I’m more of an orange man, myself.”

Eddie exhales through his nose, pushing his head towards Richie’s touch. “I love you,” Eddie says, for what seems like the 100th time that night. 

“I love you too,” Richie kisses him again, really kisses him, because he feels like it’s the last time he can. 

*** 

Richie left that night, the same way he came in. He cleaned himself up and got dressed, trying to hold back the tears as he listened to Eddie cry quietly from his bed. When he climbed out the window that night, Eddie leaned out after him, catching his lips in another kiss and whispering another “I love you” into his mouth. 

He tasted Eddie’s words his entire walk home. 

When Eddie left two weeks later, they said their goodbyes in the driveway of Eddie’s house. He had packed up his entire life into his little sedan, with some room to spare. Eddie’s mother sobbed loudly from the porch, comforted by Richie’s parents, giving the boys a second alone. 

Eddie had hugged him so tightly that he thought his ribs would crack. Richie had buried his face in Eddie’s hair and kissed his ear, reminding him to call when he got there. They hadn’t kissed, not with their parents standing 10 feet away, but as Richie watched Eddie’s car disappear over the horizon, he wished he had kissed him. Instead, he cried on his father's shoulder while his mother rubbed his back. 

Eddie called immediately when he arrived, telling Richie of the drive and the campus, what he liked so far and what he hated. Two days after that, a package arrived for Richie in the mail. Inside the envelope was a letter from Eddie, telling him to come see him as soon as he could, and a key to Eddie’s dorm room, marked with “E.K.” on the back. 

*** 

Richie doesn’t remember when Eddie stopped calling. He thinks it was right after his birthday, maybe? He knows for sure that he spoke to Eddie then. He’d wished him a happy birthday and they’d talked for a while, over an hour at least, and before they hung up they’d said “I love you,” because it was true and Richie wanted Eddie to know that. 

But eventually the calls stopped. And so did the letters. So Richie loafed around his house for a while, smoking weed and jerking off to the memory of the night he’d spent with Eddie, until in early October Richie’s parents told him that his father had accepted a job in California and they were moving there, and of course Richie was welcome to go with. 

Richie had packed up his life in a few short days, throwing his belongings into boxes and bags and loading them into his car. He tucked Eddie’s dorm key into the music box he’d made in shop his junior year of high school for safe keeping, and placed the box gingerly in his glove compartment. 

He’d then said his goodbye to Mike and a few other people in town, like Mr. Keene down at the pharmacy and some of the other regulars at the Aladdin Theatre/Arcade, and he’d left a long message on Eddie’s answering machine at school, letting him know where he was going and his new address if he ever decided to talk. 

As he drove across the country, following his parents U-Haul van, something happened. His head felt foggy for a while, like he’d just woken up from a dream and it was starting to fade away with each moment of consciousness. Then, the longer he drove, the better he felt. He was excited to start a new life far away from—? Where was it again? He couldn’t quite remember, so he just let it go. By the time he got to California, it was all gone. Leaving him with nothing but a fresh start, an empty place to store new memories. 

*** 

Long after he’s left Derry, years after he’s forgotten Eddie, Richie knocks over the music box from his dresser during a romp with a boy from Chicago. 

After they finish and Richie is cleaning up, he picks up a key from the floor. He frowns, turning it over in his hands, examining it. “What is that?” The boy asks, noticing Richie’s puzzled look. 

“I’m not sure,” Richie shakes his head. On the back of the key is written “E.K.” His mind swims for a second, if only a second, back to somewhere he doesn’t quite recognize. Someplace warm and safe, someplace happy with someone happy in it, as well. A laugh, a smile, a slow steady clicking, like something being shaken. But just as quickly as it was there it’s gone again. Richie shakes his head again, placing the key back on his dresser. 

He returns to bed, not quite able to remember what he’d forgotten. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me anywhere! My handle for everything is @rauqthetommo! Feel free to ask me questions at all on my tumblr!


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